Standing Still
by PadfootandProngs91
Summary: Complete Surrounded by trees, she sat there. Covered in sticky blood, not daring to believe where it came from. The trees thundered over her, threatening to take her life before he did. Staring down at her, their powerful leaves shaded the light her only


_**Disclaimer: The characters, all of them, belong to Jo. The plot belongs to me**_

Authors Note: Attempted to make it both gore and psychologically horrifying. Thanks to my three beta readers: Juls, Jess and Colleen. They've put up with a lot. Enjoy!

"Is anyone out there?"

Panicked, she whispered the four words again, pleading for someone to answer her.

"Is anyone out there?"

Surrounded by trees, she sat there. Covered in sticky blood, not daring to believe where it came from. The trees thundered over her, threatening to take her life before he did. Staring down at her, their powerful leaves shaded the light; her only chance at freedom.

She gripped his flannel shirt, refusing to believe the lifeless face staring up at her. His hazel eyes that had been full of so much emotion now held nothing. His lips were slightly parted in hopeless attempts to be heard. His messy black hair lay the flattest she had ever seen it. Her eyes slowly moved towards his torso and she felt bitter bile creep up her throat. Beneath his checkered shirt lay pool of crimson from the wide gashes scattered across his chest. As the bile continued to climb, she stared at his unbeating heart that had been split in two by the powerful blade.

A rustling noise came from behind her, and she slowly turned. She stood, still covered in the sickeningly red blood, staring into the eyes of the person she had thought she knew well. Not looking back, forgetting about her need to grieve, she ran. She ran blindly, tripping over shrubs on the forest floor, stumbling her way as tears clouded her vision. She could hear the crunch of his step, the growl in his voice, the swing of his axe, and the thump of her heart. Above all, she could smell the putrid scent of the vivid red blood staining his front.

Tears mingled with sweat poured down her face, still blurring the objects only inches in front of her. She felt, with complete horror, her sneaker slip under one of the many roots protruding from the ground. She could feel herself falling, hoping that her landing would kill her before the man following her did. Her arms shot out to dampen the fall but it was no use. Her face slammed into the hard dirt, a loud crack echoing through the forest. Her dirt covered hand reached up only to find neon red substance staining her fingers. The tears and sweat still cluttering her face now had a companion.

Allowing the blood to freely fall, she scrambled up as the footsteps grew closer. She yelped as she pushed herself up, the pain in her nose bordering unbearable. The tears increased as she took off once more, still unable to see clearly. Trying to wipe the mess from her eyes, she added dirt to the mixture. Another sob escaped her as she continued to try to clear her face, not realizing the damage she was causing.

Thawk!

Her eyes widened as she heard his heavy axe collide with one of the many trees. Hearing the sound of the blade made his death seem more real. The sound of splintering wood as he jerked the axe out of the wood filled the air. Her heart was thumping faster and louder than it ever had as she kept running. Finally giving up on clearing her watery eyes, she focused on the trees before her. Seeming to go on for miles, she quickly darted through them, hoping another root wouldn't slow her down.

Nearly a mile in front of her sat an old cabin, the peeling wood could be seen at even her distance. Her heart leaped as she spotted the run down building, happy for anything to hide in. She pumped her legs faster, completely ignoring the footsteps quickening behind her. 

Pushing herself forward, she ripped the door open and stumbled inside. The small cabin was dark and the odor that filled the air was neither pleasant nor horrifying. She allowed the door to slowly creak closed, knowing quite well that being in this tiny building would buy her matter of minutes. In her mind, it was more than enough time.

She dug in her pocket, her hands clammy from the fear she had welled up inside of her. Finally grasping her willow wand, she struggled to speak an incantation. The small cabin finally filled with a soft glow from the light coming from her wand. She felt her stomach churn the minute the walls were illuminated.

The wand she held dropped the floor as she stared at the walls in the cabin around her. Trembling more than ever she gazed at the limp bodies hanging along all four sides. Slowly she walked towards a body on her left, swallowing hard at the flaming red hair a top the man's head. He was balding slightly and his finger bore a wedding band that matched the one she knew all too well. A vivid picture of a woman also supporting red hair and a hand sewn apron jumped into her mind. She had known this phenomenal woman for no more than a month but felt as if she were the woman's own younger sister.

Next to the red haired father hung a young black man, his bald skull covered in dried blood. Her eyes quickly looked away, spotting two young men known to her only as the Prewitt brothers. Their eyes were wide but held nothing more than death. She could feel tears threatening to fall once more, something she didn't want to happen. Once again she quickly moved her eyes away from the dead handing uselessly. Her eyes scanned the walls of the Order members, recognizing few. Her heart stopped when her eyes rested on him.

Slowly walking forward, she ran a pale finger along the line of his strong jaw. His jet black hair was caked with something she refused to investigate. As she stared at his body, she took in the dirty jeans he wore and the cloak he had worn that was nearly falling off his frame. But most of all, his face seemed haunted, something she hadn't seen on him in years. 

"Sirius," she whispered quietly, tears now falling. She slowly reached up and untied his arms from the hook he hung from. As she did so, it seemed as if the man's body resisted her trembling hands. How her tiny body was able to hold up his larger one, she'd never know. The tears that had been clouding her vision came back as she dropped him the dirty floor with a thud. As the shadows created from the still lit wand swallowed Sirius' very being, she could've sworn she saw the corpse move slightly. Blaming his apparent movement on the flickering light, she turned away from her friend's resting place.

She snatched her wand from the floor, working her way through the hanging bodies to the window on the back wall. She tried to keep herself as far from touching the bodies as mush as she could. As she pushed the rusted locks, the room seemed to grow smaller. The air next to the corpses seemed to be tainted as she pushed hard on the window. It was stuck as she continued to try and pry it open. Her breath became shallow as she pushed even harder, ready to do anything to get away from the bodies around her.

After one particularly strong push, the window finally moved. The small hole was barely big enough to accommodate a child much less a grown woman. Gripping the wooden frame, her veins threatened to burst as she forced the window open. It slid up, causing her to lose her balance and fall through the gap it left. The battered lady lay on the brown forest floor, her nose hitting the dirt first.

Blinding pain shot through her body as she slowly lifted herself up. Her nose was bleeding freely again, both the blood and dirt mingling with the tears now streaming down her face. A feeling of déjà vu washed over her as she once again lifted her hand to her nose only to find it dripping with blood. The woman could barely breathe now, the physical exertion she had gone through being completely unbearable.

A heavy foot dropped into her low vision range, a lone axe swinging gently next to the man's leg. Her eyes slowly trailed up his body, nearly gagging at her love's blood still plastered across his chest. His flannel shirt was unbuttoned, showing the rips in the shirt underneath. The tears her very soul mate had made in a last effort to escape this man. Finally the woman's eyes rested on his. Those amber eyes that she had known so well…yet apparently so little. His sandy blonde hair dirty from the mud smeared into it. His features were hard and wounded as they had always been. The man had two faint scars across his face, each one made at one of those horrifying nights. He flipped the axe, using the butt to slowly lift the woman to her feet. He smiled wide as she stood, amused by her pain.

"This can't be happening. Not you," the woman croaked, trying to stop the tears from falling, "You're his friend. His best mate..."

The man barked, the sound echoing through the trees. She could hear startled birds fleeing the oaks in the distance, "Friend, eh? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. The Marauders," the man laughed again, his eyes glowing with delight, "We were never really friends!"

"But Moony.." she begged, the butt of the axe still pressed into her chin. Remus rolled his eyes, leading her around the wooden cabin. His eyes were blazing as he pushed her forward, watching her suffer just like he did.

When the two reached the door, Remus pushed it open. He dragged the woman by her cloak back into the stifling room. Sirius' body still lay on the hard floor, something different about it. She was sure that he had moved slightly. But she dismissed the idea as Remus roughly pushed her forward.

"You see this?" Remus asked, shoving her to the ground. She fell, hard. Her body went limp as he walked around the room, "What a shame, dear friend. Arthur never had chance. Oh and Shacklebolt…bloody prat if you ask me," Remus smirked, running a fragile finger across Kingsley's bald head. The woman turned away, afraid to see who he would mock next.

"Ahh.." he said, turning to Sirius' limp body on the floor, "Good old Padfoot," Remus chuckled, kicking the black haired man's corpse. Nearly a second after Remus' boot came in contact with Sirius' stomach; a small yelp filled the quiet cabin.

The woman jumped up, staring wide eyed at Sirius' body. She stumbled quickly towards the man, hoping it had been him who cried out. Her adrenaline back, the woman flipped Sirius' over. This time she was sure she saw him wince as his back crashed to the ground.

"Sirius?!" She shouted, shaking him violently.

A soft sigh came from Remus, who abruptly dropped the axe, "It's over Padfoot," he said, tearing off the flannel shirt. He rubbed his forehead, grimacing at the grime his fingers took off. He glanced down at Sirius who still lay there, "Get up!"

Sirius's eyes screwed tight as he ignored his friend. The woman stared between Sirius and Remus, not fully understand what was going on. Remus groaned, kicking Sirius lightly in the stomach again.

"Bloody hell! Once was enough," Sirius shouted, eyes wide open. He scrambled up, staring at Remus. His gray eyes were scowling at the man.

"Bugger off. You've screw it all up," came a deep voice from the woman's left. She watched as Kingsley Shacklebolt struggled to untie himself from his hook. In fact, as her eyes swept the room, many of the once dead bodies were undoing the knots that held them to their posts.

"He kicked me! Not to mention she dropped me on the ground. Twice," Sirius complained, nursing his stomach. The woman stood rooted in her spot, staring at those she thought dead. Her throbbing nose and the mixture on her face proved that this wasn't a dream. Yet there stood Sirius and Remus, bickering as they had always done. Kingsley, successfully down, was helping Arthur Weasley. She could feel her head pounding as she thought of Molly and her apron. What in the world was happening?

"James.." The woman suddenly said, remembering the vivid images of the man lying on the dirt floor. She turned towards the door of the cabin, ready to sprint her way back to the messy haired man. The minute her eyes reached the doorway, her heart seemed to have a heavy weight lifted off it.

James smiled widely at the red head, his clothes still covered in mud, "Lily Evans, you have passed. Welcome to Order of the Phoenix,"


End file.
